Between a Rock and Gibbs' Place
by thatblue
Summary: He had to let her stay. When she'd called, there had been no other option but to allow her into his space.
1. Chapter 1

Gibbs locked his door when he had a guest.

Leaving it unlocked, daring someone who didn't belong there to enter, had seemed like a Gibbs move right from the start. Kate hadn't felt surprise when Tony had presented the new Gibbs fact over a case and Chinese. She'd never taken the time consider it might not be true, as she had driven to Gibbs' house a few weeks later-in the dead of night. Then, the door had responded when the handle turned. It had allowed her inside, to find him in his basement, eyes barely flickering up to her as she descended his stairs.

This time, he'd been the one to let her in. She didn't doubt for a moment he knew exactly how long it had taken to summon the courage to climb from her car, how long she'd stood still on his porch. She had finally managed to knock, softly, against a door that would open without any of the effort. He'd pulled it open at once, smile crooked, as he moved aside to allow her in. She had managed to leave awkward and uncomfortable and freezing on the porch. Inside, it was the same, but much warmer.

Kate could make out the crackling of wood. She nearly let her feet drag her to the source of the noise, to drop down beside it and thaw until she felt somewhat human again. Instead, she peered down the hall into the low lighting that seemed to make up Gibbs' home life. Right now, she'd do just about anything to avoid his eyes-and any potential questions. She didn't need either one of them spending too long trying to figure out why she had called him, instead of going to a hotel, when her apartment had been flooded from above.

"You're freezing, Kate," he said.

Gibbs took a step closer. He moved into her space, eyes moving down slowly over face

"I'm fine," she said. Her grip, on the bag slung over her shoulder, had grown so tight she wasn't sure she'd be able to release it again on command.

He reached around her slowly. Her heartbeat seemed to fill her ears, nearly drowning out the sound of a lock being turned. Kate drew in a breath, as his arm brushed against hers, and he retreated back into his own space. Should she feel honored? Insulted? Or, maybe, Gibbs was only reckless when it was only Gibbs.

"You'll take the bedroom," he said, before turning away from her.

And in a single Gibbs swipe, any potential conversation died in his entryway. Maybe he wasn't actually interested in why she'd shown up here after all. Probably, he didn't care, as long as she stayed out of his way. He wasn't exactly known for taking an interest in his agents personal lives, at least not when it required direct routes to the information.

Gibbs paused at the bottom of the stairs, shot her a look over his shoulder. Kate forced her feet into motion. She had only been here once, but had taken the time to memorize the little of the house she had seen. Which, honestly, had been limited to the hall, a glance into the living room, and then the basement. So, she followed him up the stairs, taking in the lack of anything to see. She stopped when he did, at the first door on the left, waited until he opened up the bedroom door.

Kate stepped inside, dropped her bag onto the nearest table. She glanced back at Gibbs, thinking beyond him to a hot shower followed directly by a warm bed. She yawned, covering it quickly with her hand.

"I'm going to get some sleep, I think," she said. "Thanks. For letting me stay."

"Welcome, Kate," he said, already turning away. "Bathroom across the hall, be downstairs if ya need anything."

She waited until she heard his last footstep, until she knew he must be in his basement.

Kate dug into her bag, gathering up a pair of sweatpants, and a long shirt- items she'd rescued that were still dry enough to wear- and headed across the hall into the bathroom. She closed and locked the door, and fiddled with the shower knob until the water ran hot. She stepped under the stream, leaned back against the cooler wall. The water beat against her skin, still couldn't force out the thoughts of Gibbs.

Her clothes were still damp, when she finally tried to pull them on. They clung to her skin, and she knew the feeling would be enough to keep her from the sleep she wanted, until they finally dried. It wouldn't take long near the fire, closer to the heat source. She stepped out into the hall, dropping her supplies off into her temporary bedroom, and heading down the stairs.

The main floor lacked Gibbs. The door leading down to his basement hung half open. Kate paused, listened to the faint sounds of scrapping from below. For reasons she couldn't explain, they brought her comfort, and for a moment she thought about joining him again. She could use the company, even the one-sided conversation, and maybe it would do him some good as well. But she heard a tool drop against something solid, and she took a quick step back.

She headed for the kitchen instead. Kate hoped he had tea-which seemed unlikely, because he was Gibbs- but would settle for a beer. She'd take anything, to help her sleep her way into tomorrow.

 **Gibbs**

He had to let her stay. When she'd called, there had been no other option but to allow her into his space. He'd been in the same position with DiNozzo several times too many over the years. Gibbs felt certain he'd enjoy her company at least as equally he ever had Tony's. So, he'd agreed, before he realized that the trouble with Kate had never been in the things he felt he had to do. No, the danger had always been in how much he wanted to do things for Kate. The list of willingness ranged somewhere between simple and hopefully thoughtful, to stupid and completely dangerous.

He didn't know which side letting her stay here would settle on just yet.

Because, when she left at the end of a day-when a case closed, or sleep called his agents far more powerfully than his words-he used the space and time to remind himself just how stupid and dangerous his feelings for her were. Hours allowed him to shove her back into her slot. She couldn't be a daughter, not like Abby. Never like that, but a subordinate, his agent. Hell, his friend. He liked to pretend she was someone who needed his guiding hand, his rough way, far more than she'd ever need his broken ability to love.

Sometimes, though, he didn't think Kate cared about the damage he might do upon impact. She'd flirt, and he'd try to stop it, until his own tongue betrayed him again. She'd respond, she'd smile, and he'd forget again why he'd spent so much time, building so many damn walls. He always pulled back a little harder, when she seemed to be able to reach out and yank them down herself. It hadn't stopped her reaching for them yet.

Gibbs stopped, tool pressed against the wood. The shower had turned off, he listened to her footsteps coming down the stairs. The floor just outside the basement door creaked down here, and he heard her pause there. Should he have invited her down? Should he now?

Gibbs turned, dropped the tool onto the table. Above him, he heard her move away. The kitchen, or the living room, he couldn't say for certain from his spot down here. He could go find out. Go check on her. He really should. Gibbs took the final swig from his mug, let it burn a path down to his stomach.

It hadn't been liquid courage-unless it was just the courage to climb those stairs again- in a very long time. Now, he considered another shot, another moment before he faced her.

He slid the mug away with an exhale, moved to the stairs. Gibbs put his hand on the railing, listened to the sounds of life above. He swallowed a few times, spun around and yanked the tool up again. He got back to work.


	2. Chapter 2

She wasn't alone. Her heart pounded in her ears, as her mind jumped from dead asleep to red alert. She shook off panic, strained to hear and pinpoint the intruder's location in her room. She heard nothing, outside of her own seemingly too loud breathing.

Whoever they were, they were silent, skilled. Kate stretched her fingers out beneath her pillow, slowly wiped her hand across the space. Nothing. A handful of sheet met her instead of the much more comforting barrel of her weapon.

Left with no other option, she waited.

A hand touched her shoulder. Something inside her shifted, the touch too soft to scream of danger. The warmth of it soaked into her skin, warmed her far deeper than its reach. She knew this hand, knew the owner. Her mind just needed a moment to play catch up. Kate slowly slid her fingers around the wrist, ran them over the hair and muscle she found there.

 _Oh, shit._ Gibbs.

A laugh rumbled off him. His other hand wrapped around hers. Gibbs' thumb stroked over the back of her hand just once-the motion left her with far less air than fear had managed, and she refused to think about that fact too hard-before he pulled her hand away from him and stepped away from her and the bed.

"Just me, Kate," he said. The beside lamp flipped on, revealing his crooked smile.

"Sorry, Gibbs."

She really shouldn't start the morning by breaking one of his special rules, but then again, she had already nearly assaulted him.

 _Only uphill from here? Maybe I can try to shoot him as an encore._

He shrugged.

"Shoulda warned you," he said, eyes meeting hers, holding her there.

Kate sat up, rubbed at her eyes. She pushed hair away from her face, glanced at the clock. 0400.

"Been snowing," Gibbs said, moving for the door.

Kate looked out the bedroom window. She watched the snow fall in thick, heavy, flakes.

"Why'd you wake me?" she asked, returning her attention to him as he stepped from the room.

"Got a case," he said, over his shoulder. "DiNozzo called,"

Right, a case. She'd managed-sometime between discovering how much of her stuff had been ruined and falling asleep in Gibbs' bed- to forget they were on call this weekend. Work wasn't what she had in mind.

The wind howled outside, the branches rattling like she had woken up in a bad horror movie.

 _I gave up protecting the president for this_

(It had been the right move, morally and directionally, of course.)

At least a case would keep her and Gibbs out of the house and out of each other's reach. The less time for her to annoy him, and him to earn his second b, the more likely they would come out the other side of her stay as friends. Or whatever he considered them.

Throwing the blankets off, Kate dropped her legs over the side of the bed. Warm air blew down at her from a ceiling vent and she lingered a moment to enjoy the way the heat ruffled her hair. Glancing at the nightstand, she saw the missing gun. Safety on, base resting against the lamp. She more than owed last night Kate for having the good sense not to shove it beneath the pillow.

She shuffled across the carpet to where she had laid out her clothes. As patient as Gibbs had been in waking her, she didn't imagine it would hold if she kept dragging her feet. So with a sigh a relief at finding the clothes fully dry, Kate yanked them on. She tied her boots, reached for her gun, and shoved it into its holster on the way down the stairs.

Kate jerked to a stop at the bottom, blinking up at Gibbs. She hadn't expected to find him waiting. Or rather, she hadn't expected to find him patiently waiting.

He'd grabbed a second coat, held it out for her now, open and ready for her to slide her arms into. The color matched his, the material just as thick and guaranteed to be far warmer than the one she had managed to recover from her apartment.

His idea didn't lack appeal. In fact, it seemed to overflow with it. Kate wanted to accept, to slip her arms in and turn that coat into a rather unsightly dress. Her mind, however, had always held onto bullheaded pride a little too tightly.

Gibbs' mouth twitched. She knew better than to think her internal debate could remain invisible from someone like him.

"C'mon, Katie," he said, holding it out, giving it a little shake.

Kate took in a breath. Gibbs smiled at her, eyes so uncharacteristically soft, gentle, that she couldn't help falling-give in to whatever he asked of her. She trusted Gibbs with her life, maybe the day had finally come to trust him with her well being.

God knew how often she'd tried to do the same for him.

"Thanks."

She turned her back to him, pushed her arms in as he stepped closer and drew it up over her shoulders.

"Can't have ya freezin'," he said. "No good to me."

When she turned around again, he had produced two cups of coffee-from his favorite place, not from his own pot (which had been less industrial sized than in her imagination)-and pushed one in her direction. The moment of softness had come and gone, work Gibbs returning to his rightful place. She took the cup and he turned away from her.

Gibbs swung open the front door, stepping out and letting in the storm. Air beat against her face, snow melting against her and his floor as he strode away.

"We're late," he called over his shoulder.

 _Bastard._

She smiled, shut the door behind her and hurried after him.

"Did you sleep at all?" she called above the wind, glancing at him.

He met her eye. He seemed to regret it at once, scowling and doing his best to look more threatening than freezing, and returned his attention to his car.

He unlocked it, slid inside. She hesitated only a moment, thinking of what her coworkers might say if she pulled up with Gibbs after staying in his bed (however innocently). Of course, coworkers meant Tony. And she had no doubt Gibbs would slap him straight if he veered too far off course, right into Kate's sights.

So Kate slid inside, took a sip of the coffee. It did have a hint of sweetener, but would likely still leave her heart pounding like jackhammer in a few hours. She wrapped her hands around it, let the heat soak into her fingers as Gibbs reached out and flipped on the heater.

"Be warm soon," he said, before turning his attention on the road.

Work would likely be hell today, but at least her boss seemed to be in a good mood.


	3. Chapter 3

He shouldn't know or care how they liked their coffee.

Getting said coffee would never fall in line with the boss-the second b is for bastard, the keep them alive and well because of it-image he'd been so carefully crafting. Yet, that simple and alarming fact hadn't actually done a damn thing to stop him from escaping the bullpen and ending up there. Logic, apparently, didn't stand a snowball's chance against Kate.

Their case, the one that had driven them out into the storm, had turned out to be so simple-an accidental death. Gibbs had been all too happy to pull his team from the cold, to drop them off (dripping and prickly) at their desks with their personal mountains of paperwork.

For a long while it had been enough to lull them. Gibbs had focused on breathing normally, finally managed to get the case details from his Kate-soaked brain out onto the pages.

He still noticed her.

With all his focus burned up on other tasks, it hadn't taken long for _that_ to break him. A few too many minutes of her shivering out of the corner of his eye, rubbing her hands down over her sleeves in an attempt to warm up-as if that could help when they were all still more puddle than person-had done him in completely.

It had been at that point, because he lived to flirt with danger, Gibbs had suggested Kate put her damn coat back on.

Kate had muttered under her breath. Gibbs hadn't needed to decipher the words to be certain they had involved her and him and bodily harm-tempting, but dangerous all the same. So he'd turned to Tony instead, laid his frustration out over him.

He had glared at Tony. Tony had blinked confusion right back at him.

Leaving them there had been self-defense. It had been the only smart play left on the field. The plan, if he could call running away a plan, had been to clear his head. He'd been hoping a little fresh air might give him a new perspective on his _'I'm so totally screwed'_ problem.

It hadn't. Now, he stood in front of the elevator to the bullpen with his hands full of coffee. He had no solid way to explain the gesture, no way to justify the way he'd been acting all day.

 _Ah, hell_

He'd need a few more hours (days, honestly) to come up with a better excuse than 'Crazy about you, Katie'. Even if he didn't work with a room full of Special Agents, Gibbs imagined someone would notice at that point his feelings for his agent had stumbled off the edge of platonic-somewhere around that handshake on Air Force One.

The elevator doors opened, Gibbs stepped in. He hit the button, turned and leaned his weight against the wall.

In a few seconds-or so it seemed to him-the doors opened up again. Gibbs drew in a long breath. He'd spent far too long being a coward today, and the thought alone forced his feet into motion. He stepped out, glanced right.

Tony had left his desk behind, stood near Kate, wearing a grin that suggested trouble.

Gibbs moved in closer, into hearing range. At the new distance he could see Kate's glare. Whatever the subject, Tony had pissed Kate off.

"Did he show you the boat?" Tony asked.

"Tony, I swear if you don't stop..." Kate exhaled.

Tony ignored the warning, crossed his arms, leaned his weight onto the only empty corner of Kate's desk.

"What about the gun, do you-"

Kate gripped her pen a little tighter, let out another long breath. Gibbs hated playing referee, hated how he ended up feeling like a father-a thought he never wanted to have when it involved Kate-but he had to end this conversation before someone wound up hurt.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs growled, rounding the corner.

Tony jumped, threw his weight up off Kate's desk. He spun around to look at Gibbs, fear crossing over his face. It felt nearly as good as the smack he should have delivered, and he didn't have to empty his hands to do it.

"Just finishing up paperwork, Boss," Tony said.

He hurried back to the safer part of the bullpen, out of Gibbs' reach.

Gibbs knew he had to look at Kate sooner or later, and when he did, he found her smiling up at him. The coat comment, dragging her out into the cold (even if that part came along with the job) all seemed to be forgiven by his rescue-though Tony had been the one he had saved.

Gibbs put the carrier down, ignored the way his heart sped up when she smiled so softly at him, and pulled her cup out.

Stepping closer, he held it out to her. She took it at once, wrapped her hands around it.

"Thanks," she said, still smiling up at him.

 _So screwed, so very, very, screwed._

"You got us coffee, Boss?" Tony asked. "You don't get us coffee."

Kate leaned over to look at him. Gibbs' jaw tightened at the interruption. He both owed Tony the world and hated him in the exact same moment.

Turning, he yanked Tony's cup out and took two steps across to drop it off in front of Tony's keyboard. He pressed his palms flat against his desk, leaned down to look him in the eye.

"Take the damn drink, DiNozzo. We got work to do."

The confusion returned to Tony's face.

 _Hell, Tony. You aren't the only one._

"Right, taking the coffee."

He waited until Tony pulled the cup over, until he took a drink and turned his attention back to his work.

Gibbs spun, returned to his desk and dropped himself into his chair. Pulling out his own cup, he took a too long and too hot drink. At least with his vision blurred by the lid, he could pretend he didn't notice the look Tony and Kate shared.

* * *

The next time he looked up, it had gone dark outside. The lights were dimmed around them, and Tony had his head tipped into an open palm. His other hand still moved, but Gibbs doubted he wanted to try to read any words being added. Kate looked only slightly more alert.

Gibbs had been up for too long himself, and the bite of caffeine in his veins could only keep him up and moving for so long. He'd rather be at home, with Kate tucked away upstairs-as far out of reach as he could manage-when he did finally crash.

"Go home," he said, flipping the file closed. Gibbs drew his shoulders back, rolled his neck. "It'll be here Monday."

When Tony escaped the bullpen, Gibbs held Kate's coat open for a second time. With no one there to witness, while his heart reached dangerous highs, Kate pressed a kiss to his cheek. She turned back away from him, slid her arms inside.

 **Kate**

Her mind buzzed from the extra cup of coffee. She held her tongue as Gibbs drove, but found herself glancing over at him far more often than felt safe. He'd just been so...strange today, sliding up and down the scale of normal interactions at a rate that left her breathless and confused and wanting.

Kate had a few dozen questions stuck somewhere in her throat. She'd probably even find the nerve to ask them, if she could believe for a moment he'd answer even one.

She sighed, and he sighed, and she felt no better than before.

He shifted beside her.

"What did Tony want to know?"

She blinked at the window, turned her attention back to him. His eyes stayed on the snow covered roads.

Kate bit back words of frustration.

"What?"

"When I came back," he said.

His right shoulder shrugged, as if the conversation didn't matter-as if the question was off hand, small talk.

She didn't buy it for a moment.

"Oh," Kate said. "He was just wondering how I was settling in. Comparing notes, you know Tony."

She tried for a smile, doubted he saw it.

While Kate might dream of hurting Tony at certain moments (for his lack of boundaries and a few hundred other reasons) she didn't want him to suffer Gibbs' anger because of her.

Gibbs sat in the silence a few more moments before he finally, finally, looked at her.

"You've seen the boat."

"I didn't tell him that."

She thought his mouth twitched into a smile, but in the darkness she might have been more hopeful than accurate.

Gibbs parked at his house, walked up the path with her. It felt so domestic and dangerous and she didn't want it to end when they reached the front door. He pushed it open, stepped in behind her, closed it again.

Kate didn't need to turn to confirm he'd actually locked the door when she heard it click. Whatever the reason, she'd decided it did actually make her feel safe. Loved, in a Gibbs sort of way.

"Go get some sleep, Kate."

She dropped her coat on the hook, looked over at him. He scrubbed a hand over his face, leaned his weight against the wall. Now that they were here, work done, she could see exhaustion win. She nearly suggested he take the bed instead, decided it would only lead to an argument.

"Good night, Gibbs," Kate said, turning away.

"Good night, Kate," he said, before heading around the corner into the living room.

Kate forced her feet up the stairs-doubted she'd be getting any sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

If he were being honest, he knew better than to invite her down into the basement. The last time she'd been down there should have been warning enough to stop him. At the very least, it should have been enough to keep him from sliding the sandpaper into her outstretched hand and putting her to work on the boat beside him.

Her smile when he had though...

He couldn't help wondering- at least in the back of his mind- if he kept playing with fire, hoping he might end up a little singed.

 _Be worth it, Katie?_

Gibbs shook himself, sighed. Turning back to his table, he scooped up his too warm beer and took a long pull from the bottle.

He'd been trying, with little to no success, to keep his eyes on the boat and his thoughts far from Kate. He needed the ability to focus, still hadn't found it by the last swig.

Kate shifted. The sounds of sandpaper faded a moment later. His eyes moved to her without a second thought, without a proper risk assessment. She had one hand wrapped around the boat frame, eyes on him. Kate tilted her head to rest against her hand, smiled. He swallowed roughly, shifted his weight up off the table.

If he were a smarter man, he'd probably know how to deal with his feeling for Kate by now. Or, if he were less broken, he'd probably just confess and hold on tightly as love ran its course. But Gibbs had been standing still for too many years. He'd been drawing lines and repeating rules for too long to just stop now.

 _Wanting_ to stop-finally have a damn good reason to stop-didn't mean he had the first clue how to make it happen.

He sighed and held himself and his beer bottle too tightly to be comfortable.

Kate bit against her lip. He forced himself to look away. Staring a hole into the side of his boat felt like the safest option. It had to be better than lashing out at Kate for...well, for looking like she might want him to kiss her as much as he wanted to do it.

 _God, Katie. How'm I supposed to survive you_

He heard her turn back to the boat, heard the sounds of paper scrapping over wood resume.

Dropping the empty bottle onto the table beside him, Gibbs took a step closer to her.

"Kate, I-" he started, taking another step. He had no follow up to offer her.

"What are you going to name it?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him.

He blinked. Of anything she could have said, any question she had every right to ask of him, he hadn't been able to predict that one. It threw him off balance.

"What?"

"The boat," she said, tapping the wood beside her head. "Boats usually have names, right?"

"Right," he said, glancing at the boat, trying to recover language skills. "I, uh...was gonna call her Kelly."

He regretted it instantly, hated himself for the honesty the moment the name had left his lips. Taking in a sharp breath, Gibbs braced himself to be reminded again of what he had lost.

Kate didn't ask. When he summoned the courage to look at her, her eyes were sad and she gave him a small nod. Probably she knew too much, but he didn't dare ask her. He didn't want to know.

Gibbs tried to swallow around the lump he knew as sadness. He refused to give it power tonight. He'd grieve-for the millionth time-when Kate had returned home. The bourbon would still be there then. Right now, the heartache made him want to reach out for Kate all the more.

It tore at his walls, and he didn't quite want to rebuild just yet.

"I like it," she said, smiling over at him."The name and the boat. "

He nodded his relief, somehow found a smile in return. He drew in his breath, gathered up his courage.

"How 'bout dinner and a movie," he said, wrapping his own hand around the boat frame. "I'll cook."

"You cook?" Kate asked, her smile growing wider.

He narrowed his eyes, even as the tension in his shoulders eased. Teasing, he knew, could work with. The smile on Kate's face nearly erased the ache in his chest. Nearly.

 _Not a date_ , he told himself, no matter what it felt or sounded like. No matter what he actually wanted.

"Made ya breakfast didn't I?" he said at last, pulling the sandpaper from her hand and tossing it to the table.

If he didn't look at the boat again, he might just be able to make it upstairs without breaking.

"You did do that," she said, spinning and heading for the stairs. "I'll help."

She flashed another smile over her shoulder.

Flipping off the light at the top of the stairs, Gibbs shut the door behind him.

Tomorrow, he'd have rules and lines to remember.

Tonight, he refused to think about tomorrow.

 **Kate**

Gibbs had turned on a black and white movie. Kate hadn't caught the name of it, had lost the plot somewhere along the way. Every blink seemed to last longer than the one before.

Her mind kept trying to break past the haze of exhaustion to remind her that falling asleep on his couch-or him-would, at the very least, be embarrassing when she woke up again.

 _Get up_

One more minute and she'd get up. It didn't matter how full her stomach felt, or how warm the fire and Gibbs had become. Kate tried to pull her eyes open again.

* * *

Kate shifted, drew in a slow breath.

She heard a door open nearby. The sound of the wind picked up for a moment, before fading out again. Even half-asleep, Kate knew she shouldn't be able to hear that from behind the bedroom door.

Kate swallowed. Running her fingers over the couch cushion, she forced herself to remain calm and think things through. She _had_ woken once, she remembered after a moment. The fire had been dying, the TV turned off, the room dark and warm.

He had...no, she had only imagined the rest. Dreamed it. Gibbs wouldn't have been holding her, arm heavy around her waist. He hadn't actually rumbled out a 'sleep, Katie' and pulled her in closer still...

 _Right?_

Kate sat up slowly. The table had been cleared of dishes, all evidence of the night before emptied from the living room-Gibbs included. She hoped he had gone out for coffee, feared he had left for work without her. The thought caused an ache in her chest she hadn't expected.

Shoving the blankets to the side, Kate climbed to her feet.

As embarrassed as she felt, Kate reminded herself as she climbed the stairs to shower, she'd only fallen asleep on his couch. She hadn't tried to sleep with him, at least. The thought didn't bring much comfort to her, the breach seemed the same.

Kate showered, dressed, and dried her hair in the silence. She waited as long as possible before scooping up her car keys and heading down the stairs. The door opened halfway down, and Gibbs came into view. She let out a breath, felt relief for the first time she'd woken up.

"Gibbs, I'm-" she started, stepping off the stairs and closer. "I'm sorry about last night."

He didn't answer, held out a cup of a coffee, and a folded over brown bag. She reached out, took them from him and watched him turn away again.

 _Say something...please  
_  
"C'mon, Kate" he said, over his shoulder. "Got a case."

The smell from inside the bag made her stomach growl, and she only stared at his back for a moment before hurrying after him.


End file.
